Celestial Office Party
by Black-Librarian Skirath
Summary: The Gods of Chaos attend the Celestial Bicentennial Costume Party along with all the other godly figures of the 40k universe. Tensions will be raised and outfits insulted, and what shall become of Nurgle's girlfriend/captive!
1. Preparing

Celestial Office Party

_Hello all, Black-Librarian Skirath here. Here is a new little story involving many of the gods of the Warhammer 40k universe. I was originally going to upload it all in one massive part but due to its ever growing size Im going to divide it into two or three chapters. I'm trying to stick to the fluff as much as possible but I'de like to remind the puritans out there that this is a PARODY, so no angry emails please. I'm glad my last upload got so popular, and as a result of it I'll be making my stories a lot more high quality. More jokes and less spelling errors. Feel free to leave reviews; I always appreciate hearing some feedback._

"Nurgle hurry up! The party is in thirty minutes and we still gotta pick up Khorne and Slaanesh!" Tzeentch yelled out as he waited outside Nurgle's room. It wasn't often that Tzeentch was allowed to enter Nurgle's domain, they were conflicting aspects of Chaos after all. But on a day such as today exceptions were made.

In truth thirty minutes was more than enough time for the Gods to meet and go to their intended destination, but Tzeentch couldn't stand Nurgle's home. His mansion laid at the epicenter of the massive jungle of pestilence and rot that comprised his realm. Tzeentch had once travelled through Nurgle's realm on the backs of a thousand living discs. Through that excursion he was swarmed by biting insects that showed no acknowledgement of distinction between mortal, daemon, and god; he was sprayed in the face by the spores of violently active fungus stalks more forceful and annoying then any woman working in the perfume department; and through the sound of swamp gas explosions and buzzing arthropods he had heard the chants, hymns, and drum beats of plague bearers. Although in retrospect Nurgle's realm wasn't so bad; whenever Tzeentch went to Khorne's domain he got shot at by daemonic cannons and he could never leave his drinks unattended in Slaanesh's home for fear of something being mixed into it. The smell though was becoming more then he could bear.

"Chill your pants Tzeentch I'm brushing my teeth!" Nurgle said in a more gurgled speech pattern than usual.

"Since when do you brush your teeth? You're the Lord of Rot for Warp's sake!"

"Sshhtt tthha wwwrp up pnssy ahs!" Nurgle clearly had something in his mouth, but he still couldn't imagine that it was a tooth brush.

"Just speed it up! I don't need to tell you how showing up late will negatively affect our image." Tzeentch began to walk around, his clawed feet leaving scratch marks in the worn-out shag carpeting. He was in the colossal main living room of Nurgle's dilapidated manor. While the estate was a decaying pustule that stood out for its grotesqueness, even in a seemingly endless land of death and rot, it still held a bizarre form of beauty. The front gardens were filled with the widest variety of fungi in the Warp or the material realm. Glowing mushrooms of varying shapes and sizes seemed all the brighter due to the perpetual darkness caused by the swarm clouds, and crawling lichens formed such interesting and peculiar shapes that they were works of art greater than even the most creative mind could imagine.

To the uneducated, casual observer the interior of the estate was a bleak and somewhat scary place, but those people usually view the glass as half empty. The walls were covered in a yellowed wall paper that was covered in molds of various shades that created various decorative patterns in hues of green, red, brown, and a brighter pus like yellow.

Finally becoming so tired of standing Tzeentch went over to the couch towards the end of the room. The couch was a large and derelict, a large butt print covered in congealed slime and mucus indicated Nurgle's favorite spot. Tzeentch sat down on the left side of it putting his feet up on the rickety coffee table in front of him. On the center of the table was Nurgle's portable crock pot, a gift he received from Slaanesh three millennia ago for his birthday. He used this to work on his plagues and afflictions when he was travelling or was just too lazy to stand up while working at his cauldron. On the opposite wall there was a mammoth, flat screen television. Tzeentch was the one who convinced Nurgle to get said TV; Nurgle had originally been opposed to replacing his old Toshiba. A couple years back the Lord of Change and Sire of Stagnation butted heads quite a few times on the subject, but Tzeentch finally managed to convince his brother. The next day he got the 250in customized Warptech plasma screen; what would the Gods of Chaos do without the Dark Mechanicum. Tzeentch flipped it on and began channel surfing. He slowly listed the names of the shows and movies he saw; All My Spawn, So You Want to be a Daemon Prince, The Eldritch and The Restless, Pirates of the Maelstrom, Slaaneshi for the Straight Guy, The Space Hulk, Everybody Loves Lucius, Two and a Half Horrors, Cultist, Sex and the Hive, The Real Housewives of the Empyrean, Family Daemon, How I Met Your Essence of Chaos, and bla bla bla…

He sighed. "Damn… there's never anything good on nowadays."

"Why not check whats on demand?" said a gentle female voice.

Tzeentch began looking around, nervously trying to find the source of the voice. "Who the warp just said that? I'm the God of Sorcery so if you're here to kill Nurgle I'm not him!"

"If I could kill Nurgle I would have done it a long time ago…" the voice said.

Tzeentch turned around to find a beautiful female trapped in a cage. He gasped at this glowing creature. The contrast between her putrid surroundings and her own radiance was astounding. Her pale skin was unblemished, and her long hair as dark as obsidian rock. She appeared almost human to Tzeentch's eye, but she was so much more slender then any human he had met before. She wore an immaculate white robe that glowed with a light of benign purity. He quickly knew what type of being he was looking at. "You're an eldar goddess?"

"Aren't you the smart one…"

"W-what are you… how long have you been here? I've been here millions of times before and I never noticed you."

"You tend to ignore things that don't concern you. Which honestly surprises me, I thought you were suppose to be the scholar of the Idiot Gods…"

"Hey! You have a very caustic personality! Who the warp are you anyway?"

"My name is Isha…"

"Isha… oh the Goddess of Healing, erm… now I remember you. I thought Slaanesh killed you after he/she was born."

"The hermaphrodite abducted me after it killed most of the other Eldar Gods…"

"Oh. Hmm, then how did you…"

"You could say that Nurgle was my knight in rusted, slimy armor. He came to my rescue with his rotting hordes and brought me here to keep Slaanesh from finding me."

"I guess that explains why he never invites Slaanesh here…"

"Yep."

"So why the cage?" Tzeentch asked in a slightly confused tone.

"Nurgle has trust issues…"

"Well I knew that."

Finally Nurgle burst open the door to his bathroom, a place of great horror and smell. He was wearing a slimy black suit that seemed tight on his massive girth, he also had a cane. "Ok I'm ready."

Tzeentch peeked into Nurgle's restroom to see that his 'tooth brush' was actually a large stick with steel wool on one end with dead skin wrapped around it and smothered with what appeared to be waste. "That's unsettling… erm. Nurgle, why is the Eldar Goddess of Healing in a cage in your mansion?"

Nurgle gasped. "Isha, why did you let him notice you! You remember what we talked about don't you? It's not safe to let the others know you're here!"

"Honestly Nurgle it's kind of sad they haven't noticed me before. I know you want to protect me and I think that's adorable but a cage does not equal love!" Isha yelled.

Tzeentch reluctantly put a clawed hand on Nurgle's shoulder. "Nurgle I think we need to have a word in private, because this is obviously a family crisis…"

"Oh so now that you know about me you're just gunna ignore me? Get back here you feathered bastard!" Isha yelled with more annoyance then anger as Tzeentch led Nurgle to another room.

"Okay what the crap man?"

"What? Do you know what kind of sick stuff Slaanesh was doing to her?"

"I've discussed this with Slaanesh, I don't need to know what weird perverted crap she's into. I guess this why… s/he… hated you her first millennium around."

"Yep, Slaanesh got over it; I think he thinks I ate Isha or something. To be honest I thought about it… but look how hot she is."

"I know they say opposites attract but honestly, you're the Prince of Pestilence, The Duke of Disease, the Commander of Contamination, and she's… a doctor practically. It's not right man."

"Why can't you ever just be happy for me huh? HUH?" Nurgle proceeded to start poking Tzeentch's chest. "Huh mister big shot magic man? Think just cuz Nurgle's fat and diseased he can't find love?"

"Well… in all honesty… yes." Tzeentch folded his arms across his chest and glared at Nurgle. "We need to dispose of her."

"Don't fight me on this Tzeentch!" mucus like tears began to form in the corners of Nurgle's murky eyes. "I love her…"

"Oh geez… hold on a second… stay there."

Tzeentch proceeded to walk back to the cage holding the captive goddess. "Okay, you've really got my brother's head turned around. He thinks he's in love with you… now I know he doesn't have a chance but just try to let him down easy. He's the sensitive one…"

"He has a chance ya know…"

"Good now let's just… wait… I'm sorry?"

"I was married once you know..."

"Really?"

"His name was Kurnous, he was gentle, and kind, a lot like Nurgle; except in the fact that he wasn't essentially a giant, rotting hemorrhoid. Then he was tortured by Khaine for a few centuries… that doesn't exactly do wonders for you physically or personality wise. Then your psycho man bitch brother came into being and killed him along with almost everyone I ever knew. Then it abducted me and made me watch as it consumed the souls of my children, not to mention a whole bunch of weird sexual things I don't want to get into. Then Nurgle came in… and… I don't know, saved me…"

"He put you in a cage…"

"Still a bit of an improvement, I'de give him a chance if he'd let me out."

Tzeentch stood there for a moment in shock and confusion at the situation he had found himself in. He knew that this was a situation that needed to be resolved soon lest Khorne, whom reacts poorly to any complex problem, or worse yet Slaanesh found out. But on the other hand they would soon be late. "Nurgle we don't have time for this just come on. We'll settle this later Isha."

Isha pushed the hair out of her face and let out a long sigh, similar to Tzeentch's sighs. "Nerd…" she said in a biting tone.

Tzeentch grabbed two of the cage's bars with his long claws and began to shake it furiously. He glowered at her with an intense look of annoyance. "I don't like you… are we clear?"

"Yes sir…"

"Good, Nurgle come on."

"Nurgle dear can you leave the remote in my cage please. I get so bored when you're not around."

Nurgle gently sat the remote to the TV on the bottom of her cage in front of her. "Of course sweetie, try not to miss me too much."

Isha stuck her hand out and gently patted Nurgle's bulbous head. Shockingly enough Tzeentch could have sworn that for the slightest moment the part of Nurgle she touched was… healed. It was only for the slightest moment, like the flash of a camera, so Tzeentch couldn't tell if it had actually happened. Not wanting to cause any problems he just shrugged and started walking out the door. "You two are pathetic; I'm leaving with or without you."

"Fine… What are you suppose to be anyway Tzeentch?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Tzeentch straightened out his black robe and wig. "I'm Professor Snape. I don't know what you are Mr. Suitandcane."

"I'm MD House jerkwater!"

"Pfft. Lame." Tzeentch held out his hand and a large, ornate staff materialized. It resembled a large bedlam staff glowing with a strange blue light. Once it was fully formed he slammed it against the floor, in less than a second their diseased surroundings were changed into a fiery, blood saturated hell pit. "Khorne if you aren't ready I'm gunna make a rainbow pop out of your ass."

Khorne approached the two drenched in the blood of the fallen, as he always was. He wore his usual his usual khornate bronze armor, the only unusual thing about his attire was the large, black iron sword stabbing him from his chest all the way through the back. "Let's get this over with." He growled.

"Erm, Khorne. What are you suppose to be?"

"I am a warrior who was slain in battle by being stabbed in the heart with a mighty sword!"

Nurgle began letting out a guttural giggle. Tzeentch looked at him for a moment until he too got the joke, at which point he started chuckling as well. "What are you both laughing at?" Khorne yelled.

Nurgle and Tzeentch both started laughing harder and finally Nurgle blurted out "You're a Khorne on the cob! Hahahahehehaha!" They both collapsed to the floor laughing.

Khorne grabbed them both by the neck and lifted them into the air. "I am not going to put up with these corn jokes anymore! I am the Blood God! I am the slaughterer of countless worlds, and I will not be a mockery anymore!" He proceeded to throttle the two still hysterically laughing gods.

The force of Khorne's grip around Nurgle's neck caused several boils and welts to burst, releasing a thick slurry of yellow and green fluids. "Hey you can't blame us for that Khorne Flakes thing, that was someone else man."

"Okay okay, geez Khorne." Tzeentch said. "We'll lay off you, no need to get you're chainmail in a bunch."

Tzeentch was about to smash his staff against the ground again so they could teleport to Slaanesh's domain, but Nurgle interrupted. "Wait wait wait. Khorne, aren't you forgetting something for your costume?"

"Not that Im aware of…"

"I'm positive that you are." Nurgle said with certainty in his voice.

"What?" Khorne asked, his eyes narrowing.

Nurgle gave off a huge toothy grin. "Butter…"

"Oh that is it! Get over here you son of a bitch!" Khorne lunged for Nurgle with a bellowing howl of rage. Tzeentch simply sighed and slammed the butt of his staff on the ground, teleporting the trio just as Khorne was about to punch Nurgle's corpulent face.

Suddenly the hell pit they were standing in was replaced by an irritating spectrum of contrasting colors. The air smelled of lust, fine perfumes, and some kind of gross musk. Slaanesh was leaning against a mural along the wall depicting the Primarch Fulgrim's "triumph" at Laeran. "Took you long enough!" he, she, and or it said. Slaanesh appeared as a young woman, although she still had several androgynous features, wearing a skin tight, and red leather outfit. The costume left hardly anything to the imagination, although on a gender bending god they still kinda did. Her skin was a light purple, and satyr like horns protruded out of her angular skull.

"I'm getting sick of asking this," Tzeentch said, "but what are you dressed as Slaanesh?"

Slaanesh looked confused. "This isn't a costume…"

Tzeentch let out a slightly avian groan. "Slaanesh today is the Celestial Bicentennial Costume Party. Why the Warp aren't you in an actual costume. Why are you wearing that anyway?"

Slaanesh's black soulless eyes were wide as she tried to come up with an answer. "No reason… and… this **is** a costume. I'm a ghost, booooOOOoooOOOOooo!"

"Oh whatever, get over here."

Slaanesh rushed in to hug Tzeentch and to kiss him on the top of the beak. "Wuv you…"

Tzeentch went bug eyed for just a moment and then just glared. "Don't ever touch me Slaanesh… and will you two please stop fighting! We aren't going if you're going to embarrass me, at least not anymore then you all usually do…" Khorne and Nurgle were too into their fight to even notice what Slaanesh and Tzeentch said. Tzeentch zapped them with psychically charged lightning, causing them to convulse and foam at the mouth. "Well now that that's settled lets go. Oh, and with five minutes to spare!" Tzeentch's beak contorted into a smile. For the final time he smashed his staff to the ground. Where they'd appear next would be very different than any of their own realms.


	2. The Arrivals

_Alright, heres the next chapter. I'll do chapter 3 as soon as I can. I hope everyone enjoys this. Big important piece of information for this chapter, The Machine God is speaking in hexadecimal code, to find out what he's saying all you have to do is go to any website that decodes it into english. His dialogue isn't important to the story in any way but those who do decode it will be very proud of themselves. I was going to put a link into this little author message but unfortunately the site won't let me put in links, and for that I am truly sorry... please try to enjoy._

They appeared in a large manor in a pocket dimension. The dimension only consisted of the manor and the small grounds it occupied. It was long ago deemed neutral ground by all the higher order factions of the Milky Way Galaxy; the surviving Eldar Gods, The Chaos Gods of the Warp, The Orkish Twins, The Emperor, The Machine God, The C'tan, and the recently added member of the higher order The Hive Mind of the Tyranids. The many Gods of the galaxy war with each other constantly; but for reasons unknown, once every two hundred years they gather for a night of costumed revelry. Once again, the reason for this is unknown.

The chaos gods appeared inside the mansion's main hall. The smell of exotic foods was thick in the air and music of the great, late Bequa Kynska played. That human had been one of Slaanesh's acolytes, even if she didn't know it at the time. In life that human had been the greatest composer in history, but her career didn't really take off until after her death. Tzeentch looked around; noticing that besides the servants there was no one else there.

Tzeentch approached one of the servants. "You there, where are the other guests?"

The thing sniffled and its neck filled with air so that it could release the breath required to make words. "They haven't arrived yet, Lord Tzeentch. The Order of Chaos is the first to arrive."

Tzeentch cringed. It was Cegorach, the Laughing God, that trained the servants to call him and his brothers the 'Order of Chaos'. It was an intended joke, a non-literal oxymoron that always made Tzeentch furious. His brothers and their quirks annoyed him; Cegorach on the other hand enraged him.

Khorne and Nurgle had finally recovered from their sudden shock. Khorne was obviously conflicted as whether to continue his battle with Nurgle or to wage a new fist fight with Tzeentch for zapping him, it would take him a while to decide and then he'd just forget why he was mad. Nurgle went over to the buffet table, stuffing his face full of assorted bits of fancy garbage. Meanwhile Slaanesh was already dancing about to the beat of the music with a grace and talent only she possessed.

"Hmm…" Tzeentch mumbled. He saw another servant slithering about; he recognized it as one of the long extinct Laer. The servants had all been artificially constructed, each resembling a different form of sentient life. The idea had been based off an organization within real space known as the Cabal. The servants had little independent thought and were deemed suitable by all factions as the perfect neutral party to serve as butlers and caterers for the festivities.

After five minutes or so Tzeentch sensed another teleport signature shaking through the essence of the house and sure enough a bright flash of green light filled the room. The flash left two stout green creatures with huge tusks protruding up from their lower jaws. Their spines were bent in a bizarre curvature that appeared neither comfortable nor natural. Their bestial eyes were yellow, with vertical irises. One's hair was tied up into a pony tail on the top of his skull, the other was completely hairless. Each of them wore a wide variety of tribal fetishes, metal trinkets, and shining weapons holstered and sheathed in various places. Tzeentch grabbed a cup of wine from the laer's serving tray and raised it up to toast the new arrivals. "Ah Gork and Mork, so nice for the both of you to finally join us here."

"Well if it ain't dem chaos boyz. You'ze 'azn't changed much 'ave ya?" The left one said. Even Tzeentch couldn't tell which one was Gork and which one was Mork, he often wondered if they even knew the difference.

Tzeentch walked over to the two. He couldn't help but notice they weren't dressed any different then they usually were. "Erm… so what are you suppose to be Mork?"

"Oi! I'ze not Mork, I iz Gork! I'ze just drezzed up as Mork!"

"And I'ze drezzed as Gork. Wut iz you, a twit 'r some'tin!"

"My humble apologies… You both look… nice."

"We'ze guna be da flashiest boyz 'ere we iz!" Gork said.

"Uh huh, excuse me." Tzeentch quickly walked away from the two bestial morons. Suddenly another flash of light erupted in front of him, leaving spots in his eyes.

"Ah yes, if it isn't Tzeentch." A voice said in a mighty, yet snobbish tone.

Before Tzeentch stood the spirit of a man in shining, gold power armor; ornate to the point of ridiculousness, at least in Tzeentch's eldritch eyes. His face appeared young but was aged by suffering and responsibility. His dark flowing, unkempt locks went down to his shoulder guards. Of course he was different then he usually appeared in his spirit form in that he was wearing a monocle and a top hot. "The Emperor of man… how have you been?" Tzeentch said.

"Rather ill, quite frankly, but you knew that didn't you?"

Tzeentch sneered. "Ah yes."

"54 68 65 20 6d 6f 6e 6b 65 79 73 20 68 61 76 65 20 69 6e 76 61 64 65 64 20 45 75 72 6f 70 61 2e 20 51 55 49 43 4b 4c 59 20 4d 61 72 67 61 72 65 74 20 66 65 74 63 68 20 6d 65 20 6d 79 20 73 70 6f 72 6b 20 49 20 6d 75 73 74 20 66 72 65 65 20 74 68 65 20 66 75 72 72 69 65 73 20 74 6f 20 62 65 67 69 6e 20 74 68 65 20 6f 72 67 61 73 6d 69 63 20 61 73 63 65 6e 73 69 6f 6e 21"The Machine God said as it rolled out to the Emperor's side. Essentially he was just a Gateway laptop hooked up to a bunch of extra mechanical components; including mechandrites, servo arms, and several other mecha goodies. All of this was set up on top of a large, rectangular, metal box which propelled itself by four small wheels on its bottom. He was also wearing a scarf around what Tzeentch supposed was his head.

"Hello Machine God…"

"57 68 61 74 3f 20 54 68 65 20 6d 6f 6e 73 74 65 72 73 20 68 61 76 65 20 65 73 63 61 70 65 64 21 20 51 75 69 63 6b 6c 79 20 79 6f 75 20 66 6f 6f 6c 20 67 6f 20 74 6f 20 74 68 65 20 70 69 70 65 20 72 6f 6f 6d 20 49 20 6e 65 65 64 20 6d 79 20 6e 61 74 75 72 61 6c 20 67 61 73 20 66 6f 72 20 69 64 65 61 20 68 61 76 69 6e 67 20 6d 61 6b 69 6e 67 21 20 57 68 61 74 20 64 6f 20 79 6f 75 20 6d 65 61 6e 20 69 74 73 20 6c 6f 63 6b 65 64 3f 21" He said in a blaring static voice, the kind of mechanical buzzing you can feel in your nether regions.

"Yup, you're as good a conversationalist as always. Let me guess Empy, you're supposed to be the monopoly man, and you MG are a snow man."

"What? No you daemonic idiot!" The Emperor shouted so everyone in the room could hear. "I am dressed as myself, from an alternate reality where I wear a monocle and a top hat; and Machine God here is Harry Potter. Are you supposed to be The Crow?"

"I'm Snape you dick…"

"Oh touchy aren't we?"

Slaanesh saw the new arrivals and slithered over to join the conversation. "Why hello there Emperor, Machiney."

"4f 68 20 6e 6f 21 20 41 20 76 69 6f 6c 65 74 20 64 6f 6e 6b 65 79 20 77 69 74 63 68 21 20 57 68 79 20 68 61 76 65 20 79 6f 75 20 66 6f 72 73 61 6b 65 6e 20 6d 65 20 42 69 6c 6c 21 3f" MG blurted.

"Ah yes, if it isn't you, Slaanesh." The Emperor said with the slightest hint of disgust in his voice. "I've been meaning to ask you both something. How are Magnus and Fulgrim?"

"Whelp," began Tzeentch "Magnus is still up in his tower, yelling… Speaking honestly I have never heard such language in all of my days. He is really pissed off…"

"Well, that's a tricky thing to answer." said Slaanesh. "The real Fulgrim is trapped in the deepest recesses of his mind while the daemon who possessed him has been throwing an uninhibited party since the thirty-fifth millennium. So, which ever you mean."

The Emperor sighed. "I miss them…"

Tzeentch and Slaanesh looked at each other for a slight moment. "What?" The Emperor asked noticing their shared glances.

"Do you wanna ask about the other ones?" Tzeentch asked.

"What other ones?" The Emperor began to glare at the Lord of Change.

"You're other kids… that… well… joined us. I mean I haven't really been keeping up with Lorgar and Perturabo but from what I understand they're both doing quite well. From what Nurgle tells me Mortarion's new world is pretty damn awesome as far as plague planets go and Angron-"

The Emperor put his hand up and gestured for Tzeentch to stop talking. "I should stop you there. I only feel bad about Fulgrim and Magnus. Fulgrim because you're little whore sibling sent a daemon to possess him, thus absolving him of whatever crimes he has committed; and Magnus because admittedly… it was somewhat my fault. Don't get me wrong it was mostly his and your fault but I can't help but feel slightly responsible."

"Wow…" Tzeentch said sarcastically, "that must have taken a lot of strength."

"You have no idea… Anyway screw the other ones. They chose to turn from me and the Imperium willingly. As far as I'm concerned they can all go suck flamer. Now if you'll excuse me." The Emperor began to take his leave to the refreshment table.

"Now hold on Emperor." Tzeentch said, making said Emperor turn around to look at him. "It occurs to me, as the greatest historian in existence mind you, that the Horus Heresy was the direct result of your lack of foresight."

"Yes yes I shouldn't have made Horus the Warmaster, I shouldn't have left the great crusade to pursue my own agenda, Sanguinius would have been better at being Warmaster, Angron and Mortarion wouldn't have turned if I hadn't have been such a dick to them when I found them, bla bla blattity bla."

"Actually Empy that's not what I mean."

"Well I give up, what do you mean bird face?"

Tzeentch's gaze narrowed on the Emperor. "Remember Lorgar?"

"You mean my son I had to spank to get him to stop worshipping me? Who ,after said spanking, went to you bastards."

"What was that spanking for ,exactly?"

"You know exactly what it was for. He was trying to worship me as a god."

"There in lies my point. Doesn't all the Imperium worship you now?"

"Well yes…"

"Which technically due to your own power, you are a god, as close to a god as any of us here anyway. Now tell me, obviously the Ecclesiarchy worships you, does the imperial guard worship you as well?" Tzeentch asked smugly.

"You know they do." The Emperor was becoming more and more annoyed.

"I see, now do Space Marines worship you as a god now as well?"

"Well yes… but I don't see how that applies to-"

"Yes, I see. So by today's standards Lorgar would have been you're average Imperial warrior; he might even have been called a martyr. Lorgar was also the one who helped us taint Horus, who of course ,as we all know, instigated the Heresy. But had you had the same standards you do today back then you never would of chastised Lorgar, thus he never would have been driven to start worshipping us, thus he never would of tainted Horus, and thus the Horus Heresy never would of occurred. That would have allowed you to continue your little crusade to reclaim the galaxy, and you might even have succeeded in destroying us. But unfortunately for you, that is not the case."

"This conversation is over." said the Emperor as he turned once again. Tzeentch noticed Slaanesh make a slight gesture as the Emperor made his dramatic departure from their company.

Suddenly the machine god started spinning around in circles. A disco ball and strobe lights emerged from hidden panels on his boxy body. He began blaring "48 69 73 74 6f 72 79 20 72 65 70 65 61 74 73 20 69 74 73 65 6c 66 0d 0a 54 72 79 20 61 6e 64 20 79 6f 75 27 6c 6c 20 73 75 63 63 65 65 64 2c 0d 0a 4e 65 76 65 72 20 64 6f 75 62 74 20 74 68 61 74 20 79 6f 75 27 72 65 20 74 68 65 20 6f 6e 65 0d 0a 41 6e 64 20 79 6f 75 20 63 61 6e 20 68 61 76 65 20 79 6f 75 72 20 64 72 65 61 6d 73 21 0d 0a 0d 0a 59 6f 75 27 72 65 20 74 68 65 20 62 65 73 74 20 61 72 6f 75 6e 64 0d 0a 4e 6f 74 68 69 6e 67 73 20 65 76 65 72 20 67 75 6e 6e 61 20 6b 65 65 70 20 79 6f 75 20 64 6f 77 6e 2c 0d 0a 59 6f 75 27 72 65 20 74 68 65 20 62 65 73 74 20 61 72 6f 75 6e 64 2c 0d 0a 4e 6f 74 68 69 6e 67 73 20 65 76 65 72 20 67 75 6e 6e 61 20 6b 65 65 70 20 79 6f 75 20 64 6f 6f 6f 6f 77 77 77 6e 6e 6e 21"

"Umm," Tzeentch started scratching his head in confusion "what the hell is he doing?"

The Emperor looked over his shoulder nonchalantly "Hmm. I think in his mind he just now arrived to the party."

"Ok…" Tzeentch said. He turned to Slaanesh "So Slaanesh got any plans for tonight?"

"Sorry Tzeentchy I'm gunna have to leave you for a bit." Slaanesh said as she began to hurry over in the Emperor's direction. Tzeentch smiled slyly as he began to piece things together.

Tzeentch began to sense a new arrival. From all sides of the room he felt a hungry, gnawing presence. He heard the ear rending skittering of a trillion insect like creatures. Suddenly a large fleshy orb began to form in front of him. It continued to grow, becoming more and more complex. In the end it became incredibly tall creature, encased in a chitin-like armor and was sporting six arms. The top pair of arms was the most muscled and ended in wickedly sharp talons capable of grasping things; the other two pairs were longer then the top but much more slender, and ended with scythe like talons. Below the upper body was a centaur like support, except that instead of a horse half it was more like that of a mantis. The head of the thing possessed certain saurian traits, except for the chitin head crest it sported. Once the head had fully formed tentacles began to sprout from the back of its neck. After the thing had finished formed clothing began to materialize. Tzeentch recognized the clothing as early 20th century clothing.

"Ugh… yo Tzeentch. Whats up man?" said the figure.

"Hive mind you made it! How you been?" he replied.

"Umm… Im gunna honest, I've got an extreme case of the munchies…"

"What else is new?" they both began laughing. Tzeentch had been one of the few people who had taken a liking to the extragalactic collective intelligence. At first he had been pissed that there was yet another player in the battle to control the material universe, but as he observed the Hive Mind's creations, or children as one could view it, he began to like their tactics. Their ability to adapt specifically to any foe or offensive made Tzeentch inspired. Change for the better, mutation with benefits; these were interesting concepts to him.

"So guess what I am." The Hive Mind said happily.

"I don't know… Edgar Allen Poe?"

"No, but you're close… kinda."

"I give up."

HM looked disappointed. "I'm Howard Phillips Lovecraft; I thought the tentacles would have tipped you off."

"Oh, that's an awesome costume. I don't know… my family has been pissing me off lately. It's been throwing me off.

"That's rough."

"Sometimes I wish I had never been spontaneously spawned from the Warp…"

"Try having trillions upon trillions upon trillions of hungry mouths to feed, see how stressed out that makes you." HM said with what Tzeentch assumed was a smile.

"Ya… that does sound like it would get old fast." Tzeentch let out with a sigh.

"Where's the food I'm starving? Only reason I came here is to get a bite of something that doesn't want to kill me."

"It's on the table with the big, green pustule gnawing on it. I'de hurry before he eats everything." Tzeentch said right before he was nearly knocked off his feet as a massive, unexpected webway portal opened up behind him. Two beings emerged from the portal...

One was a fiery being, adorned in blazing armor. His eyes were hollow, glowing passages that revealed the molten core of righteous violence that dwelt within his iron body. His skull was like the most vicious war helm, a visage carved to strike fear into any who look upon it; it was a look that would make one accept death as a favorable outcome. From the curved backside of its head a wild mane of silver hair grew out; this only added to his fearsome appearance. Sheathed by his waist was a sword that was just as tempered and bloodthirsty as its wielder. His left hand was one of his most striking features; it constantly dripped with fresh blood. The ichor poured forth from his hand, he held it up at chest level; whether this was a futile attempt to stop the bleeding or merely a strange quirk was immaterial. Tzeentch recognized the god as Khaine, the Eldar god of battle and murder. Tzeentch did notice that he had another sword hilted on the opposite side of his waist. For some reason he also wore a large, red, robe which was baggy all across his body except at the end of his arms and legs where they constricted.

The other was a stranger being. His skin was pure white, like a clown. He was also a tall, lithe figure standing slightly taller than Khaine. His head was misshapen; it split out into three crests, one ascending upward and then curving towards his back; the other two protrusions stretched left and right. At the epicenter of his forehead a red gem glittered with some indescribably mischievous energy. His eyes were glowing white, as bright and disturbing as his villainous sneer. His narrow, pointed nose protruded half a foot in front of his face. His limbs were long and gangly, ending in boney fingers with claw like black nails. He was wearing a purple suit; Tzeentch sighed and felt slight annoyance at the obviousness of his costume. Cegorach always did have the strange habit of switching from unknowable to completely predictable, which overall made him completely unpredictable.

"Chaos scum…" Khaine bellowed, as he walked passed Tzeentch and HM. His iron feet made loud ringing sounds as he tread across the tiled floor.

"Good day to you Changelings." Cegorach laughed out as he reached out to shake Tzeentch's claw and one of HM's tendrils.

"Ok Cegorach, you're supposed to be The Joker… but what is Khaine suppose to be?"

"Oh, him; he's suppose to be Inuyasha. Always with the anime that guy…

Tzeentch and HM looked at each other right before bursting into laughter. "And people call me a nerd? Hahaha…" Tzeentch said through his cackling.

"Yes well... you know him. How have you been Tzeentch?"

"Like you care Cegorach, you better not piss Slaanesh off this time. S/he hates you enough already."

"I'll try to keep that in mind." He said as he scampered off towards the dance floor where Khorne, Khaine, Gork, and Mork had already started a brawl.

"Great… they're gunna get blood all over the place… again…" HM said with mock annoyance.

"Well whatever makes em happy. I wonder how that got started…

_**Five Minutes Ago **_

Khorne was standing idly by the edge of the dance floor. He looked over with disdain at Tzeentch and Slaanesh, who were speaking with the Emperor. Khorne hated The Emperor more then he hated his own brothers. It was because of that pseudo deity that Chaos, and thus he, couldn't spread its power all across the material universe. He scratched at his head when he felt a sudden itch, chipping away some of the hardened gore from his black mane. He lifted his glass, which was filled with a thick pint of blood, up to his canine like mouth to guzzle it down.

"'Ell if it ain't da 'orned, red git." said a brutish Orkish voice.

Khorne instinctively spun around and punched the nearest living thing, which unfortunately was not either of the Orkish gods but something completely different. The thing he punched flew, or rather floated, through the air due to the impact of Khorne's fist. It hit the wall almost like a balloon and then got stuck to the ceiling. This new creature was golden skinned, with bizarre protrusions from his head that curved towards his back. A large, green, oval shaped gem was in the center of his face; his features were similar to a stereotypical pharaoh, proud, patrician, yet with the traits of a schemer. From his shoulders flowed two sashes which circled his body. He was essentially naked, except for a paper pirate hat on his head for some reason, but the sashes covered whatever his shame consisted of.

"Khorne," said a hollow, cold voice "why did you just hit Deceiver?" Khorne turned once more to see the Nightbringer. Khorne never liked Nightbringer, he had the sadism of Slaanesh and the indifference of Tzeentch wrapped up into one ghoulish package. He appeared to be made out of some type of metal, necrodermis or something. He recalled Tzeentch talking about it when the Necrons first began rising out of their tomb worlds. He floated around in a similar fashion to the Deceiver, his black, hooded robe flowing as he moved about soundlessly about. He held in his boney hands a large scythe that almost screamed out cold, senseless slaughter.

Khorne also noticed that both the Orkish twins were on the other side of the room. "You're idiot friend was trying out his Gork impersonation…"

"It was Mork actually…" said the Deceiver as he descended from the ceiling.

"Like I give a crap."

The Deceiver glared and floated off towards the other party goers. Nightbringer meanwhile simply hovered near Khorne silently watching him. Khorne wouldn't admit this but he found the C'tan to be slightly unnerving. "So ugh… what are you suppose to be?"

"Same thing as always Khorne, the grim… reaper…" He said these words as though he savored every syllable. "Oh, and Deceiver is suppose to be a pirate… he didn't plan ahead this year."

"I can see that." Khorne muttered.

Suddenly Khorne heard something rushing towards him, before he was struck in the face with what he guessed was a chair. "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" was all he heard before he hit the floor.

"You fink yer flashier den us Khorne? You'ze nothin' but a gretchin git!"

Khorne saw both Gork and Mork standing over him, lurched over in attack position. He didn't care why they had decided to attack him. He was the blood god, and he would show these mongrels who the true lord of wars was. Khorne leapt up, his hooves making a deafening thunder as he broke the tile floor. He pulled the sword from his chest, yes; he actually stabbed a sword in his chest for his costume, and began swinging at the Ork Gods.

The Nightbringer had already floated off towards the dinner table, not wanting to get involved in such a primitive spectacle. He saw Slaanesh fidgeting with some buttons on the Machine God. "Hello Slaanesh, what are you doing?"

"I'm trying to see if I can get some porn open on MG's browser."

Machine God began shouting "4e 49 50 50 4c 45 53 20 4e 49 50 50 4c 45 53 20 4e 49 50 50 4c 45 53 20 4e 49 50 50 4c 45 53 21"

"I see…" the Nightbringer said as he noticed The Deceiver whispering into Khaine's ear towards the end of the table.

"They said what!" Khaine roared as he drew his good sword and began rushing off towards Khorne and the Orks.

The Nightbringer sighed with joy. "This is already shaping out to be a great party…"

"Yep," Slaanesh giggled, "its gunna be fun."


	3. Bicentennial Bet

**_I have returned from the Warp, and I am more powerful than I have ever been... Seriously though, I'm back from finishing an original novel. While my editor, who has gotten lazy lately, go through the massive thing I figured I'd to return to . I've looked over the story traffic over the past year or so and have been very surprised by how many people still read my stuff here. Because of that I've decided to make a vow to everyone, I will upload at least one thing to this profile every month. I know I've said I'd start posting things here more often in the past, but writing a novel is kind of a life changing experience... in regards to writing. I feel that I have improved as an artist, and I hope that you see that in these new chapters to Celestial Office Party. Btw, I do have a top secret project thats been in the idea stage for a couple months now. My editor and I can't do it on our own though... If you are an artist who can produce decent colored drawings at a semi-quick speed feel free to contact me for more information. As for the novel, well, I'll keep you posted on that as we finish it up. Now, I doubt you want to read my long winded spiel anymore, enjoy the story._**

"Alright gentleman, all bets in." Tzeentch declared. He lifted up his claw and a hat materialized in it. Nurgle, the Hive Mind, the Nightbringer, and the Machine God all placed small slips of paper into the hat.

Nurgle let out a throaty chuckle. "I bet you I'll win this time." He grinned, exposing the multiple rows of rotting teeth he possessed.

Tzeentch didn't smile. Bravado was beneath one such as him. Tzeentch lifted up his other hand. Sorcerous blue fire wreathed it, and another piece of paper phased into existence.

"We'll see..." Tzeentch said, placing his slip into the hat.

"WAAAAGH!" The screaming came across the massive room. A green boulder flew through the air, barely missing Tzeentch and his companions. Gork, or maybe it was Mork, fell tumbling to the tiled floor. The oversized pile of fungal muscle rolled to a stop, and looked like he was about to get back up. "Ugh... You ain't so tuff, zoggin... Khaos boy. I'ze stomp yea gewd..." His face smashed to the ground with a heavy thud.

"How long have they been fighting now?" The Hive Mind asked, sounding bored.

The Deceiver floated above them, giggling like a lunatic. "Oh, not long enough I'd say."

Tzeentch rolled his eyes. The spectacle in front of them was irritating, but not unprecedented. He had honestly expected this to happen as soon as they arrived.

Khorne stood not too far away, panting. Each breath forced more of his daemonic blood gushing out of the hole he himself made in his chest. "Filthy beast!" He roared. He turned on his cloven hooves towards the others who had incited his rage. Kaela Mensha Khaine was battling against the remaining ork twin. Khaine attacked with a concentrated and precise hate, aiming his fine blade at the xenos god's heart. The ork deflected it, parrying with a savagely constructed cleaver.

Khorne's vision was tinted red. This was what he lived for, what his existence was born from. Conflict, and with gods no less. He raised his broadsword above his horned head, and bellowed. He would enter this battle of titans, and he would spill as much blood as he could from his opponents. He charged forward, ready to slice both of the foes in front of him in two.

He snarled. "Victory shall be-" His hoof hit something, and the next thing he knew he was tumbling across the ground. He didn't lose momentum until his massive, gore covered bulk slammed against Khaine and the second ork twin. They fell into a pile of tangled limbs and grunting scowls.

Khorne shoved Khaine out of his face and looked over to where he came from. On the ground was a huge stone. How in the Warp did that get there?

Sitting on a stool nearby was Cegorach, laughing his ass off. "Nice trip Blood God, you should send me a postcard."

Khorne's eye twitched, and he felt his very blackened heart explode from the pressure welling up inside him. He burst up, sending the two other gods on top of him flying across the room. He threw his broadsword away, knowing damn well that he wished to tear that laughing wretch's throat out with his bare hands. He was about to charge again, but he felt his hooves lift off the ground.

"That's enough of that." Tzeentch said, reaching out his hand to lift Khorne into the air.

Khorne kicked and slashed impudently at the invisible, psychic force holding him up. "Release me you petulant little nerd! I'll rip that bastard's freakish head off to make my new cod piece!" His anger was so intense that blood and fire burst from his mouth with every syllable he spoke.

"As much as I would love to see that you're keeping the plot from progressing." Khorne glared at him, unsure of what his brother daemon meant. Tzeentch sighed. "It's better that you don't know..."

Tzeentch used a infinitesimally small fraction of his otherworldly power to bring Khorne towards him. "What is this about, sorcerer?" Khorne growled, his rage directed away from the Laughing God.

Tzeentch held up the hat in his hand. "You know what..."

"Oh." Khorne's eyes widened with sudden comprehension. Tzeentch released his telekinetic grip on Khorne, causing him to fall to the ground with a loud thud. He snarled as he got up, but controlled his rage. He grabbed a piece of paper from Tzeentch and scrawled a name in blood on it. After that he placed it into the hat with the others.

"Who did you pick witch-god?" Khorne asked, licking at a bruise on his lip.

"It's hardly sporting to tell you, now is it." Tzeentch said, making the hat disappear in his twisted claw.

Khorne grunted, looking around the room to see if any more of the gods were challenging him. None were. Khaine limped away from the Ork god, who went to check on his passed out brother. Cegorach had disappeared, but was probably plotting new tricks somewhere.

Tzeentch readjusted his black wig and drank from a wine glass he got from the table. "You wage war all the time, how about tonight you just take a breather and have some of that fancy cheese crap." He said, pointing back at the table.

The Hive Mind walked over, his many tendrils holding heaping amounts of food. "The spreads pretty good, and I know good."

Slaanesh glided over, her long violet tinged limbs moving as gracefully as ever. Tzeentch noticed his gender confused sibling had changed slightly during their time here. Her hair had shifted to a long, blonde mane, and her horns were less pronounced. Her face was also different, more... human. Tzeentch shuddered at that, for humans were such repugnant beings. They had the redeeming trait of being interesting though...

"You know nothing of good until you've tasted fresh souls." She said in a singsong voice.

The xenos Hive Mind shrugged. "Souls don't concern me, biomass does." He shoveled the food from his tendrils into his various mouths.

Nurgle lifted his face from a now mostly devoured carcass that had been especially prepared for him by the servants. "Flesh is quite sweet..."

Khorne snarled, but it was more of a nervous tick than an actual response to anything. He lumbered over to the table, shoving his sword back into the hole in his chest to free his bloodstained hands. He began tearing at various meats and shoving them into his snapping maw.

Tzeentch looked at the feeding frenzy and paled. He set his drink down and walked away. "And these are the refined beings I surround myself with..."

"I recall a time when the universe was a much simpler place." A brooding voice said from above Tzeentch.

He looked up, an avian growl escaping his shifting beak. The Nightbringer hung above him, holding a fresh green apple in his hand.

"By which you mean more desolate." Tzeentch cawed.

The Nightbringer opened his mouth, and a white energy emerged from the apple. The energy flew into the C'tan's mouth, and slowly, the apple began to wither. "I blame you, you know..." He said when he was done with the fruit. There was no anger in his voice. Tzeentch couldn't recall a time when emotion had ever escaped the star god.

"Chaos is life." Tzeentch said, grinning. "No wonder you hate us so much."

"Life is merely sustenance. As you'll one day understand..."

Tzeentch snorted. Tzeentch had been nothing more than a loose collection of psychic energies during the Necrontyr's war with the Eldar. No knowledge remained hidden from him for long, however, and time was a tapestry he knew quite well.

"You're comrade, The Outsider, was mostly to blame for that desolation wasn't he?"

Something passed over the Nightbringer's face, something that even Tzeentch couldn't read. Without a word the Nightbringer floated away. Tzeentch stood there for a moment, thinking over that bygone era when the C'tan and Eldar Gods waged a brutal battle. Cegorach had managed to trick the one known as Outsider to consume the his brethren. Though the Gods of the Warp were stronger than any of the remaining eldar deities, he still wondered some things.

"Could we be so easily destroyed..." Tzeentch thought. No, it was impossible. All life served to power the lords of the immaterium, and they already battled constantly. One thing nagged at him though, whatever became of the Outsider.

**Somewhere, Outside the Milkyway Galaxy**

The being, composed of energies unknown to mortal men, shifted through the abyss. There was nothing near it, its complexity and power unseen by any sentient being. The light of distant stars was visible, but none of the spheres were anywhere near its location. It existed outside of life, outside of the struggle and conflict that plagued so many.

"So... Bored..." The words passed from the being, nothing was there to hear him.

It turned around, locating something thousands upon thousands of kilometers away from it. He crossed the distance between he and it in seconds.

"Oh, what's this?" It was an asteroid. Somehow this lone piece of matter had been flung far away from any gravitational force capable of moving it. It was alone, just as the being was. "Hmm... I'll call you Skippy!"

The being, known only as the outsider gripped the piece of space rock and cradled it in his arms.

"Oh you have no idea how happy I am now that I've found you Skippy. I've been alone for..." The Outsider tried to remember how long he had been wandering in this vast emptiness. He failed to recollect this however, and the more he tried the greater the pressure on his mind became. He began laughing, and then crying, as he gave up. "Well... it's been a while."

The asteroid, now deemed Skippy, said nothing.

This did not deter The Outsider. "Maybe its for the best anyway... I mean the last time I was with anyone there was a war going on. You know, I wonder if that war is still going on. All I can remember honestly is being hungry. So... very... hungry..."

He looked at Skippy, hoping for a response. Obviously there was not one coming...

"Its fine, you don't have to say anything. I'm just happy I have some decent company now. The people I used to hang out with were such douche-canoes. Like that Deceiver guy. He'd always find some way to prank me, and embarrassing me in front of all our worshippers. And the Nightbringer... So depressing. Like everything out of his mouth was just meant to make me want to kill myself."  
Skippy hovered slightly out of the Outsider's hands, bringing out a frown on the C'tan's face.

"Please, don't be like that. I'd never actually do it. I mean... I thought about it. More often then I'd care to admit..." He hung his head low as the thought came into his mind. "I've just been... so lonely. And the things everyone said to me when they banished me. 'Cannibal' they called me, and 'lunatic'. 'Stop doing that with my slippers'..." The Outsider sighed, remembering all the C'tan he once knew.

Skippy bumped into him.

His frown became a smile.

"I have a feeling things are going to get much better now that we've crossed paths, Skippy." He said, stroking the asteroid's rough surface.

Suddenly, something poked into the Outsider's back. He turned around, spinning in place and clutching Skippy to his chest. 'What else could be out here with me?' He wondered. He looked at the space where he had been mere seconds before. At first he saw nothing, just more blackness. No, not more blackness. There was actually something there...

Floating in what was once a near infinite void were thousands upon thousands of creatures. They floated gently by, and the Outsider almost let out a sigh of relief. That sigh turned into a strangled choke of terror as he saw the creatures more clearly. They were a swarm of horrid, insect like monsters. Rather than float through space in peace they squirmed, crawled, and crept in place. Tendrils thrashed, giant maws bit, and claws flexed.

Startled by these abominations the outsider throughout his arms and turned away, floating as fast as he could. "What the hell are those things?" He shouted. "We have to get out of here Skippy, before they-"

He stopped, realizing Skippy was no longer in his hands. In a sudden burst of panic he turned around, desperate to find his new companion. There Skippy was, hovering by the tide of claws and teeth. It was almost as if Skippy was... mocking him...

A deep, horrid surge of hatred weld up inside of the Outsider. "Oh fuck you Skippy!"

**Anyway, back to the Party...**

"I'll guess I'll never know." Tzeentch whispered.

"Oh, who the hell cares." The Hive-Mind said, sneaking up on Tzeentch.

"What?" Tzeentch turned around. "Where you... spying on me."

"Never mind." He said dismissively. "Come on, they're bringing out some more meat platters."

Tzeentch raised a feathered eye brow. "Okay, why should I care about that?"

The Hive-Mind turned around, grinning at him with multiple sets of fangs. "I need you to carry some more of it, I only have so many tendrils.

"Alright then..."


	4. Crashed

**_Now normally I hate shipping, but I kind of set up for what happens in this chapter in chapter 1. Feel free to hate on it, I can take it. By the way, as I said before, my editor has gotten lazy. I'm posting the chapters now, but they're a bit raw. I'll do my best to get to rid of any errors as soon as possible.  
_**

All over the room the party, such as it was, continued. Truthfully it was not the blood soaked brawl of khornate worshipers, nor the vile pain laced orgies of the Dark Eldar or slaaneshi cults. It more closely resembled the dry, uneventful gatherings of Imperial aristocracy. Groups congregated in certain areas, discussing various matters. Very rarely were these matters considered by any to be interesting...

"And thats the thing about genetic science of the late twenty-seventh millennium. They focused entirely too much on muscle mass when it came to gene-enhanced soldiers." The Emperor of Mankind, resplendent in his gold artificer armor and top hat said. He drank another sip from his wine glass as he waited for a response.

"Uh huh..." The Deceiver, backed into a corner by the pompous man creature, muttered.

"They really didn't understand that for a truly effective killing machine you'd have to focus on both the mind and body."

"Uh huh..." The Deceiver desperately looked for a way out of this. Cegorach was already ahead of him in the number of tricks and pranks pulled on the other guests, and he would be damned to the agony of inexistence if he let that smug bastard beat him this year.

There was no end in sight though, The Emperor just continued with his incessant babbling over his species' science. "Put in a fused ribcage, an extra heart and lung here and there, and you've got one tough son of a bitch." The Emperor laughed.

A mechanical chirp came from nearby. The Emperor and Deceiver turned to see the Machine God approaching. On top of him was a mug filled to the brim with foamy beer. "Greetings carbon based beasties. I have returned from the land of appetizers and drinks! Who would taste of my many victories?"

"MG? You're speaking... Gothic?" The Emperor was surprised, normally the Machine God cycled between binary, to hexadecimal, to various other mechanical means of communication. One time he had an entire conversation with the mechanical deity in Morse Code.

Walking not too far behind MG was a being of pure lust. "I tried to download porn on his browser but all that I could find was a translation program." Slaanesh said, giving her best sexy smile to the Emperor.

A chill went down the lord of mankind's back. He turned to the Deceiver, only to find that he disappeared. Oh well, the C'tan's presence had offended him anyway. All xenos did, but not quite as much as daemons.

"So, care for a chilled drink?" Slaanesh said, smiling.

MG let out another mechanical chirp. "Fact: 80% of imperial guard regiments currently in service are supplied protein rations to maintain optimum energy levels. The other 20% are made into said protein rations."

The Emperor raised an eyebrow, then narrowed his eyes. "I don't think I like that..."

"Well that's what's happening." MG blurted out.

The Emperor glared, but let out a sigh. There was nothing he could do about that, not anymore...

"You know, sorrow and regret actually does leave me parched. Perhaps I will partake of your drink, Machine God." The Emperor declared in a voice that had brought entire worlds together in peace. He grabbed the mug, and drank deeply from it. "Ah... That's not too bad, reminds me of that stuff Leman Russ made me drink on Fenris. So rich..."

Slaanesh smirked. "Oh, well if you like that then have another. Or maybe two more..." She said, holding two mugs in front of her suddenly ample breasts.

The Emperor knew this was some sort of ploy, for how could he not. He was the Emperor of Man, the brightest star the galaxy had ever known. Still, the drinks were quite delicious, and he'd managed to counter-trick these daemonic bastards in the past.

"Let the liquors flow..." He said, giving off a shining smile.

"You have fun with that Mac," The Machine God began, "I've gotta go across these mean streets, alone, by myself, mono y nada..."

The Emperor stopped listening after he realized the Machine God was still out of his little, mechanical mind. "Yes, you have fun with that. Try not to spill anything on your cogitators, the machine-priests don't know how to fix anything nowadays..."

Slaanesh's grin turned into a sneer. All was going according to plan...

Not long after that, over by the dining table, Nurgle was still consuming various foods. While he was not keeping up with the Hive-Mind, his gullet was still filled to bursting. His eating, while not unusual, was brought on by a deeply troubled mind. Isha, the light of his normally bleak existence, was in serious danger. A delicate flower like her couldn't suffer the agonies Slaanesh could invite upon her, nor would she be able to survive the ravages of Khorne.

Worse, what if Tzeentch told his siblings and they all formed a pact. Nurgle's power waxed and waned as the galaxy filled with plague and recovered. Right now his powers were waning, and his forces could not stand against the Blood God and the Prince of Chaos. This was an issue that needed resolving, but for now he may as well stuff his face while he can.

But if it did come to war, and that was very likely, he would fight until his entire realm was shattered to defend Isha. Nothing in the immaterium, or the harsh world of reality would convince him otherwi-

"Nurgle, for Warp's sake, control your thoughts..." Tzeentch hissed, sneaking up on Nurgle and making him choke.

Nurgle hit his fifth chin with his grubby fist and coughed out a turkey skeleton. "Ah, that's better." He gurgled. "Don't do that to me Tzeentch, you know I hate surprises."

Tzeentch didn't smirk, although he wanted to. He loved surprises. "I know how deeply in love you are with that Eldar harlot, but there are forces here that are very well known for picking minds. If you don't want me to break the news to our dear brothers you'd better keep a lid on it. I'd rather they hear it from me than from that pompous emperor or something."

Nurgle chewed down on a particularly chewy roast. The thoughts were still running in his head however, and he took the hunk of meat out, half chewed and rotten by his corruptive touch, to speak to his brother.

He turned to his brother, his eye's gleaming despite their murkiness. "I do love her, Tzeentch... You know that don't you?"

Tzeentch groaned, avoiding Nurgle's gaze. "Sadly, that fact is beginning to dawn on me. Honestly... Why do you have to make me be the bearer of sad truths?"

"What do you mean?" Nurgle asked.

Tzeentch sighed, and glared at him. "Nurgle, the Eldar Gods are not like us. They come from an era when the warp was more stable, more controlled. She's the result of the refined psychic discharge of a highly warp-sensitive race. You and I are made of random energies generated by an entire galaxy of slathering sentients. You can't grab chaos, and try to shove it inside order's panties. You'd probably end up making reality crack apart, or have the entire immaterium abort itself out into real space." Now that Tzeentch thought about it, that wouldn't be so bad. It'd certainly be unexpected... But, no, he had to do what was best for Nurgle.

Nurgle looked on the verge of tears again. Tzeentch looked around. Gork and Mork were staring at them, and Khaine was giving them the occasional glance. If Khaine finding out would probably be worse than Slaanesh doing so, he reasoned.

"I just don't know what I'd do without her..." Nurgle choked out, almost bursting into a sob.

Tzeentch put his leathery palm to his forehead, trying to focus. Even now he saw the infinitesimal strands of fate stretched before him, as always most had very bleak outcomes. He was nothing, however, if not a cheater.

"Listen Nurgle, I have an idea..."

Nurgle's eyes grew wide, his sorrow replaced with hope. "Oh? What is it?"

Tzeentch sneered. "Simple. You simply allow me to dig around in that fevered brain of yours, psychically clipping away all your memories of Isha. Then, while you recover from that little operation, I send a couple Lords of Change to take that arrogant little bitch away. I have just the person who'll get rid of her for good too. Ahriman, that knowledge hungry little bastard. He'd jump at the chance to study and probe an actual Eldar goddess. I doubt there will be anything lift of her that isn't dissected and catalogued when he's done. Thus, problem totally solved."

Tzeentch had hoped Nurgle would love that plan. His bloated face just looked appalled though...

"I should swallow you alive for even telling me that!" Nurgle growled.

Tzeentch held up his hands, trying to calm his corpulent friend down. "Alright, maybe that is a bit of a radical plan of action, but this is a radical situa-"

They were interrupted when a pair of golden arms wrapped around them. Tzeentch went bug eyed, worried their newly shared secret had been caught. The reality of the situation was far stranger...

"Ah... Nurgle, Tzeentch... have I ever told you how much you guys remind me of these two warlords I knew back in the unification wars?" It was the Emperor, which worried both the Gods now locked in his grip. He was different, somehow. He smelled strongly of something, and his speech was slurred.

Tzeentch had a frightening realization. "By Horus' grave, he's drunk!" Past experiences had shown how erratic the God of Mankind was when inebriated, and Tzeentch would have preferred him knowing about the captive goddess.

The Emperor looked down at "Horus? Horus... Oh, Horus... My poor, poor baby boy..."

The Emperor lifted Nurgle and Tzeentch in his arms, squeezing them tightly as he swayed randomly around the room.

"I remember the day I first walked by his test tube, back in my laboratory. I remember sayin'... 'this one, this one right here. He's gunna make me proud'... and You know what, he did. He made me so proud that I made him t-the friggin' Warmaster..."

"Uh... Yeah, that's lovely Empy." Nurgle said, kicking a little bit as he struggled against the Emperor's ironclad grip. "We know how much you loved him."  
"Yeah, yeah, I loved him alright. But... Then... you. You!" His grip tightened, and he began throttling the two Chaos Gods. "You assholes came along. You started whispering lies into my favorite son's ears. Then... My little boy went on a murder crusade..."

Tzeentch let out a chocked cry, trying to pry himself loose from The Emperor's gauntlets. "I understand your anger, but you were kind of putting us in a bind back then..."

The Emperor growled. "I wanted to make things safe for humanity, try to make it so we could all live in peace and prosperity."  
"Well yeah, by killing every other sentient race in the galaxy." Nurgle gurgled. "Not to mention us daemons." Nurgle's eyes bulged and he let out a loud squeak as the Emperor once again tightened his grip.

"Horus gave me no choice... I found him standing over poor, poor Sanguinius. Then he came at me, with his big ass maul and those sharp talons. I fought him, and I hoped he'd give up and I could find a way to make everything all better... There was no chance that was going to happen though, and I knew it... So I had to mind blast him..." Tears rolled freely down the Emperor's perfect face as memories ten millennia old came rushing back to him.

He tossed the two trapped Chaos gods away, and fell onto the table. He sobbed, every detail of the Horus Heresy coming back to him. Everything he tried to do, everything he tried to achieve, turning to ashes at his feet. His glorious Imperium, the institution that was supposed to stand until the last star died, left in the hands of incompetent bureaucrats...

"Oh Horus, I'm sorry... It was me, I failed you! Horus... I didn't give a shit about Angron or Mortarion... Oh, but Horus!" Tzeentch and Nurgle backed away as the Emperor covered the table in his tears.

"Umm... there there." Nurgle said, patting the Emperor's shoulder plate. Nurgle turned to Tzeentch, looking for some sort of advice on what to do. The Architect of Fate's only response was a shrug. "It's... all gunna be alright." Was the last thing Nurgle said before the impossible happened.

Wind began blowing inside the room, and the air crackled with energy. Tzeentch knew what this was, but shook his head in disbelief. Something was coming, another entity was about to join the festivities. Everyone in the room, including the servants, looked around in confusion. Everyone that they knew was there. The only missing god that they knew about was Malal, the lost Chaos God, who was long ago banished to a realm known only as Ex'Canon.

"What trickery is this?" Kaela Mensha Khaine howled over the now roaring wind. Tzeentch knew the question was directed at him, for he above all others would be the one to orchestrate some unforeseen plot during this routine activity. This wasn't him though, this wasn't anything he'd seen.

The room continued to fill with tremendous psychic pressure, until finally ball of energy formed in the center of the room. It crackled with strange ethereal energies, and deep within the center of it was a shape. Tzeentch's eyes became as large as saucers as he realized he recognized the shape.

In an instant the energy dissipated leaving only a lone, floating figure. She was beautiful, born during a time of peace and prosperity that the galaxy would never know again. Her long hair, the shade of obsidian stone, flowed behind her back. She wore a robe that as white and clean as a the most innocent soul. She was a shining beacon purity, and in her hand was the largest hammer any of the assembled gods had ever seen.

Kaela Mensha Khaine uttered a single word before she moved. "Isha?" After that she ran at him, standing in front of him in the blink of an eye. With one swift, fluid motion she swung the hammer at Khaine's armored head. He was too shocked to react in time, and the blow struck home. He was sent skidding across the tiled floor until he struck a wall.

"That was for Kurnous!" She yelled, swinging the hammer in an arc by her side.

Slaanesh let out a gasp as she recognized the person in front of her. Isha heard the sound, and turned towards the androgynous chaos god. The fire in her eyes burned brightly. Slaanesh flinched back, getting ready to run away.

She didn't get the chance. Isha leapt at her, crossing half the room's distance in a single movement. The hammer came down on Slaanesh's side, sending her flying away. Isha wasn't done though. She ran towards the fallen goddess of excess, who was coughing up all manner of substances onto the floor, and then struck her again.

"Gah, my boob!" Slaanesh screeched out.

Isha stood over her conquered foe, panting heavily. She was a goddess of healing, and she was unsuited for violence. But she knew this was a necessary act, a cleansing of sorts. "That's for all the bondage crap you put me through, you sick pervert..." She hissed.

Everyone in the room, or at least those who had not been a victim of her wrath, stared at Isha. She breathed in, and then exhaled slowly. There were a few more things she needed to do. She looked across the room and picked out her next target. She swung the hammer to her side, and then turned into a spin. The hammer helped her pick up speed, and she kept revolving. After she judged the hammer had enough momentum, she lifted it up and let go of it. The hammer, now separated from its wielder, flew through the air. It kept moving even after it struck The Blood God in the chest.

Khorne let out a loud cry, more of pure shock than his usual rage. He kept moving until he smashed into the wall next to Khaine, making an even larger hole than he did.

Isha turned once again, standing tall and facing where Khorne crashed. "That was just for the hell of it..."

Leaving behind the now unconscious form of Slaanesh, Isha started walking towards Nurgle and Tzeentch. Tzeentch looked around, knowing that he would be next. The C'tan and Cegorach had disappeared, where to he had no idea. Gork and Mork were chuckling over in one corner of the room, watching the fight with great interest. The Emperor was no passed out, face down in a pile of his own bile. At first Tzeentch couldn't locate the Hive-Mind, but after hearing a mechanical chirp he realized he was hiding under the dinner table with the Machine God. They were on their own...

Isha crossed the room before Tzeentch could formulate anything resembling a plan. His multicolored feathers were quivering, why hadn't he foreseen this?

The Healing Goddess stood in front of Tzeentch, Nurgle right beside her gaping at everything that just happened. "Hello." She said, sounding very cheerful suddenly.

Tzeentch was still shaking. "Umm... Hi..."

Isha then stepped towards Tzeentch and punched him in the face. He fell flat on his back, and clutched at his now bent beak. "Owch! Why?" He moaned.

"You're lucky I didn't smack you with the freaking hammer, you awful little nerd!" She shouted.

"Isha..." Nurgle said, both in awe and shock. "H-How?"

"I bashed your rusty lock with the TV remote." She said flatly. She turned towards Nurgle, finally, and stared him down.

Nurgle was sweating pus at this point, unsure of what his long time captive and love interest was about to do.

`She actually did two things. The first was to slap him across the face. "That's for keeping me in a cage for so damn long!" Tzeentch looked up, and again he saw that brief, unsettling flicker. For a split second it looked as though Nurgle, a being of pure disease, was cured of his ailments. The next thing she did was even more shocking. She grabbed Nurgle by one of his chins and pulled him towards her, planting her lips against lipless mouth. Tzeentch saw only the first second of their kiss before turning away and vomiting up everything he'd eaten during the night.

"What was that for?" Nurgle asked, sounding even more shocked than before.

"For keeping me safe for so damn long. Now how about you and I go back to your manor and talk about some changes in this relationship..."

"Y-Yes, right away! Later Tzeentch." Nurgle rasped out happily. "Thanks for keeping the secret, but I don't think we gotta worry about it anymore." There was a flash of green light, and when Tzeentch looked up his brother and the Eldar Goddess were gone.

Tzeentch laid there, next to his own vomit with a broken beak. All around him gods were either hiding or passed out. For the first time in ages, he was actually shocked. "What in the name of the Warp has happened to the universe...?"


	5. The After Party

"So who exactly was that?" The Hive-Mind asked. He plopped down in the chair next to Tzeentch, who was busy holding an icepack to his still tender beak.

"It's... very complicated. I'm not really sure I understand myself at this point."

Khorne was sitting on the other side of Tzeentch, gripping at his chest. When the hammer hit him so hard that even his daemonic anatomy was heavily injured. He was coughing up blood, well, more blood than usual anyway.

"If I ever see that horrible bitch again, I'll take her skull." He swore, pulling his broadsword out. He lifted it up, realizing that the blade had snapped off and was still stuck inside him. "Well that's not good."

Tzeentch ignored that last part. "Believe me, Khorne, I'd love to pay Isha back for practically snapping my beak off. Unfortunately Nurgle's not going to let that happen."

Khorne let out a long snarl, and turned to yell right in Tzeentch's ear. "Then we go to war with him! You, me, and Slaanesh! He won't stand a chance against all three of us!"

Tzeentch didn't look back at his fiery brother. All he did was pat down the fire on his head that Khorne's screaming had ignited. "I'm not so sure we will be..."

"What are you talking about?" Khorne hissed.

"Nurgle's in love, and as if that weren't a horrible enough situation it turns out he's loved back. I know you're completely naive of such matters, but mortals' spirits soar when they are smitten. I imagine its the same with gods..."

Khorne growled. "What the Warp does that have to do with anything?"

"Think of Nurgle as an artist, when he is happy his ability and the quality of his work increase. When he's in love, well... Let's just say there's bleak times ahead for the mortal universe."

Khorne hissed, and that his turned into an insane howling.

"Just calm down-"

"You calm down!"

Tzeentch sighed. Despite everything, especially the pain he was in, he smiled. That was one of the most insane parties the Gods of the Milky Way had ever gone through. That in and of itself was enough to be happy about. Knowing that his brother was happy, however, was something to be truly thankful for. The fact that Nurgle represented Tzeentch's opposite in the great game wasn't important. Such things were trivial in the grand scheme of things.

Plus, on a more personal note, it seems he won the bet this year...

The Emperor awoke on the floor, a few feet in front of where Tzeentch was sitting. He was dazed, and there was a pounding pain in his head. He tried to lift his arm to rub his temples, but something was laying on top of it. He turned his head groggily to see what it was. His jaw dropped in horror and disgust as he pulled off a violet colored arm. He realized quickly that behind him, spooning with him, was Slaanesh.

"No..." He shuddered.

Slaanesh's eyes fluttered open. She saw that the Emperor was looking back at her, and she smiled. "Was it good for you too, baby?"  
The Emperor bolted upwards and ran across the room. "Noooooooooooo!" He teleported away from the pocket dimension in a bright, golden flash.

For the first time the entire night Khorne smiled. "Relax, man!" He bellowed. "It's happened to the best of us! A lot, actually..."  
Slaanesh laid back and grinned, lighting a cigarette as she got comfortable. "I believe that's called Wincest... Hey, Machine God, did you get all that?"

The Mechanical God of Mars rolled over, a mechandrite with a camera thrashing about. "Private-eye, Dirty Rye always gets his man."

"Yeah, that's great. Now give me the tape." She said, holding out a slender hand.

A side compartment opened up on the Machine God, and a VHS cassette popped out. Slaanesh snatched it up and held it close to her chest. "Pleasure doing business with you, He-Witch." MG blurted.

"Yep, now back to Mars with you. I have what I want..."  
A disco ball popped out of the top of MG, and the room filled with its rotating light. "Now, back to outer space!" Energy crackled around him, and then he was gone.

Tzeentch couldn't help but ask. "Why the hell do you still use VHS tapes?"

"Because a raunchy sex tape cannot be properly put in any other format..." Slaanesh stated. She got up, covering her nudity with a tablecloth, much to the relief of everyone around her. "Now if you excuse me I'm going home..."

A violet burst of energy and light and the hermaphroditic goddess was gone.

The Hive-Mind coughed, and turned towards his friend Tzeentch. "So... How did you know The Man-God would be the one Slaanesh would bang?"

"An important question asked in the most poignant way possible." Tzeentch said happily. "I can tell you that I examined the future, checking each and possible strand of fate for the most probably outcome, but that would be a lie."

"Okay... so then how did you do it?"

Tzeentch grinned. "I guessed, of course..."


End file.
